


by any other name

by astrologians



Category: Stasis (Webcomic)
Genre: Drunken Confessions, First Kiss, Hanahaki AU, M/M, a lot of gay bullshit, dezhrean coughs up the national flower of forthalia, gratuitous mentions of saint dezhrean and prince cillian, hanahaki disease au, niles it there in passing, sort of ?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 03:28:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11865717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrologians/pseuds/astrologians
Summary: "Her mercy creates unspeakable perfection, but her cruelty keeps it from our lips. That is the most beautiful pain."-Dezhrean Auv'Priomdezhrean has an affliction.





	by any other name

**Author's Note:**

> hanahaki (花吐き) is a fictional disease in which the person afflicted vomits flowers as a physical representation of their perceived one-sided love. the disease can be cured if the feelings of love are reciprocated, or through surgical means, but the love dies along with the flowers.

It starts with a tickle in Dezhrean’s throat, just a few days after the Mandeville Lamia had been defeated.

He ignores it initially. It’s springtime in a country he’s never been in, so of course he’s going to have allergies. Before he’d left, the family physician had warned him about the exposure to new diseases and elements, and the negative health effects it would have. As a result of Leuralia’s isolation, the elven immune system was not up to par with that of the other races.

So, when they're all packing up to move on, Dezhrean does his best to stifle as many coughing fits as he can.

They're gathering all their gear when Vier looks up, in time to see him cough into the crook of his elbow.

“You sure you're okay?” Vier asks, concern plain on his face. “If you're sick, we can stay a few days longer.” Ari nods from the doorway, moving to already toss her pack back on the bed.

He shakes his head, shouldering his bag. “I'm fine, really. Just a cough, don't worry about it.”

Ari and Vier share a capital “L” Look. It's clear neither of them believe him, but they've learned by now nothing short of the goddess Maelinwy ordering him back into bed would get him to rest another day.

She shrugs. “Fresh air might do you some good, I guess.” Vier hums something akin to agreement, and the matter drops to (probably) be discussed at a later date.

 

-

 

They decided to head out a few hours before noon. The innkeepers insist they stay long enough for breakfast. It's a sweet, but uncomfortable affair, considering Dezhrean could feel the eyes of the hostess on him the entire time from her spot behind the front counter.

“What is her _deal?”_ Ari grumbles into her food. She reaches over to spear one of Vier's potatoes, but is quickly deflected away by his fork and a raised eyebrow. “We're not causing trouble, so why does she keep staring? It’s weird.”

Vier dips a forkful of eggs into some kind of red sauce Dezhrean doesn’t recognize before answering. “She's staring because she thinks Dezzy’s pretty.”

She rolls her eyes, tries to make another grab at Vier’s food, and pulls a face when he catches her again. “Well, yeah. He is pretty. That's obvious. We think he's pretty too, but we're not staring at him all the time.”

Dezhrean’s face warms at that, and he tries to stop himself from overthinking.

 ~~( _Vier thinks he's pretty_ )~~.

“Yes, but not like she does.” Vier corrects, and Dezhrean hopes his face doesn't show how quickly his heart plummets. “She wants to…” He trails off, making a vague hand gesture. “You know, with him.”

Ari’s eyes widen, catching onto Vier’s train of thought. She immediately narrows her eyes and leans across the table to stare at him. “How do _you_ know that?”

“It’s obvious,” Vier tells her, face red and eyes fixed at his plate so he doesn’t have to look at her.

Ari opens her mouth to argue, but Dezhrean beats her to it. “Can we find a new topic? Now?”

“Gladly.” Vier deftly reaches over, and snatches some of Ari’s food while she isn't paying attention, and eats it before she can catch it back. “So, how does heading south sound? If we make good time, we could hit Montevar in a week or two.”

Ari’s too busy frowning into her breakfast, too busy plotting food-related vengeance to respond. “Sounds good. Interesting choice to start with Montevar on this journey of yours.”

He looks down, laughing nervously into his meal. “Yeah, well. It’s close. Plus, figure it makes sense to start with the hardest country. Montevar and Forthalia have been at odds for decades, and Haelwind did its best to breed bias.” With a shrug, he pushes around some of his food with his fork. “Can't really start this soul searching journey with something like that over your head, y’know?”

Glancing over, Vier meets Dezhrean’s eyes. He looks more than a little embarrassed. “If that makes sense. I guess. Sounded better in my head.”

“No, no.” Dezhrean nods. “That makes a lot of sense. Start with the worst, and then easy going from there, right?”

Vier smiles at him, and he can feel himself fall just a little more.

The back of Dezhrean’s throat burns, and he leans away from the table to cough. It’s not long before the cough turns into a violent fit, leaving him shaking. Nearby patrons look over in worry, some murmuring to each other. There’s a gentle hand rubbing circles into his back. Vier is reminding him to take it slow, and he can hear hurried footsteps coming towards them. He’s distantly aware of Ari sliding out of the booth, starting crowd control and shooing away a worried innkeep.

“He’s fine, really,” Ari insists. It's a pretty pathetic lie, but it seems to do the job. Nobody’s rushing towards them anymore. “Just choked on some toast. He’s like that.”

Once the worst of it is over, Ari slides back into the booth. “That sounds...really bad.”

Vier’s hand is still resting on Dezhrean’s shoulder, and he has to stop himself from leaning into the touch. “Are you sure you're okay? We can check with a doctor in town-”

“I’m fine,” He manages between lingering coughs. When he meets their disbelieving looks, he rolls his eyes _. “Really._ I’m alright. It’s just a cough.” He grabs a forkful of eggs and shoves it in his mouth. The action makes the urge to cough grow worse, but he ignores it.  “Don't worry about it.”

He doesn't tell them that the itch has grown more intense. Now it feels like there's something lodged in his throat. Coughing just made it worse.

Vier frowns, and Ari purses her lips, both biting back protests that they clearly have.

“If you're sure,” Vier finally relents. “But if it gets any worse, we're stopping at the first town with a doctor. Deal?”

Dezhrean nods, and deftly plucks a piece of sausage off of Vier’s plate. Ari makes an affronted noise when Vier does nothing to stop him from depositing it on his own.

“Deal.”

 

\---

 

The cough gets worse. A lot worse.

He gets better at hiding it, though. Careful to only cough when he's sure they're not paying attention. The two of them have enough to worry about, and he doesn't doubt the threat they’d made to confine him to an inn room until he’s recovered.

It gets harder when they acquire their tag-a-longs. The old man talks enough that Dezhrean’s not worried about him hearing anything - if he could hear anything at all. Niles is too busy being chatted with by Ari and Vier to comment if he’s noticed too.

Cordelia keeps giving him looks, though. He’s not quite sure if it's because of the whole “attempted murder” thing rather than his constant cough, but it's unnerving either way.

“Are you sick, or something,” she asks, a little too loudly. The rest of the party turns to look at the two of them. Niles frowns at Cordelia, while Dezhrean’s friends do the same to him.

He makes a face. “Just a lingering cough. I'm fine.”

“Uh-huh.”

He rolls his eyes when she doesn’t stop sizing him up. “What? Scared you’ll catch a little cold?”

She narrows her eyes. “Just worried you’re going to slow us down.”

Before he can open his mouth, insult poised on the tip of his tongue, Niles steps between them. “I think we’re getting close to the city. Cordelia, a hand, would you?”

She hesitates, but concedes after a moment. “Fine. Let’s go.”

As she walks past him, Vier falls back to his side. Dezhrean wonders how he doesn’t have wrinkles already considering the amount of fretting and worrying he does.

He knows the question before it’s asked.

“You sure you’re okay?” The concern in his voice makes his heart bleed, and a tickle form in the back of his throat. “That cough should’ve been gone by now.”

Dezhrean shrugs. “Maybe it’ll go away soon. I’m fine, really. I’d tell you if I wasn’t.” He clears his throat, and his mouth feels funny after, like something’s stuck in it. But that’s not as important at how Vier’s looking at him, like at that exact moment, he’s the most important person in the world.

Vier reaches towards him, resting his hand on Dezhrean’s upper arm. “Promise?”

The itch gets worse, and it takes everything from him to not start coughing to ruin the moment. Instead, he touches Vier’s hand with his own, squeezing it gently.

He nods. Vier beams, and Dezhrean’s heart melts.

“Thank you.” Vier bumps their shoulders together. “Come on then, your princeliness. We have a circus to investigate.” When Dezhrean smiles, he pats him on the back and hurries off to join Ari and Niles as they make their way into the city. Cordelia looks over her shoulder, frowning, looking like she’s trying to piece something together, before walking after him.

When he’s sure they've all refocused their attention, Dezhrean opens his mouth, reaching to grab whatever it is stuck on his tongue. He’s surprised when his fingers touch something velvety in texture.

Gagging a little, he’s finally able to pull out-

A rose petal.

That’s...new.

He stares at the petal between his fingers, frowning. No physician he’d ever met mentioned anything about coughing up flowers during their meetings with him before he left.

Ari shouts at him to get his big bubble butt over there, and he lets the petal fall from his hand, resolving to worry about it later.

 

\--

 

It’s during their impromptu duet that Dezhrean remembers a story he read as a child. One about a one-sided love so deep, that it made one of the lovers sick enough to cough up flowers. It had nearly killed him, until the other had eventually confessed that the feelings were returned.

He also remembers that story was about the Saint and the Prince.

The lights dim as the Shadow Angel steps forward, and Dezhrean can feel his heart shatter.

 

\--

 

It’s easier to pack up his things than he expects. Ari and Vier sleep like the dead, and it's not like he’s carrying a lot with him. Moving around the room to gather his belongings takes little to no time.

But just because it’s easy to pack doesn't mean it's easy to _leave_.

Dezhrean knows he's being a coward. Leaving in the dead of night, without anything close to a proper goodbye. It’s an awful, cruel way to leave, but it’s the easiest way to go. If he waits till morning, if he tries to explain his reasons for intending to leave, they’d both argue and find a way to stick with him despite the dangers.

Something bad’s happening in the circus, though. Something too dangerous for civilians to get wrapped up in, no matter how gifted at fighting or courageous they were. Leaving was the best way to keep them out of harm’s way.

(It’s not about protecting them from himself. It’s _not_.)

Sitting on the bed next to Vier, knowing the horror lurking on the horizon, Dezhrean can feel the walls closing in. Everything he’s been stopping himself from feeling, the fear, the worry over the growing pain in his lungs, starts to creep up. His stomach sinks. For a moment, all he wants to do is curl up under the covers and hide, for time to stand still while everything just _stopped_ so he could catch his breath.   

He hears two sharp knocks on the door.

Vier and Ari don’t stir.

Cordelia sticks her head inside the room. “Time to go. I’ll be waiting outside, so hurry up.”

And then she’s gone.

If only they could have a little longer. If only he was a little braver. Brave enough to wake Vier and Ari up and give them a proper goodbye.

Instead he leans forward, whispering a goodbye to Vier’s sleeping form before grabbing his bag. He’s slinging it over his shoulder when it hits something with a dull noise, and he looks over just in time to see Vier’s journal tumbling onto the ground. He’d written in it just a few hours earlier, retelling their meeting with Niles and Cordelia.

He picks it up, and flips through the pages slowly. Ari and him often wondered what exactly Vier wrote down in his journal, considering how dedicated he was to keeping it updated. It wasn’t out of the ordinary to find him hunched over it, scribbling down something he learned about Leuralia from their conversations.

In one of the entries, Dezhrean spots his name written amongst the paragraphs, and turns the page.

It’s not his place to read whatever Vier chose to write about him, despite how much he wants to. If it’d been important, Vier would have told him already. Hopefully.

Eventually, he reaches the end of the what’s written. All that’s left are blank pages for future adventures that he won’t be able to join them on.

He’s about to place it back on the table when he spots Vier’s fountain pen, and has another idea.

If he can’t say a goodbye to their faces, he can at least write one.

 

\--

 

It isn’t until the second day alone with Cordelia that she finds out.

He’s surprised it took her that long. Montevar didn’t train their elemancers to be terribly perceptive, apparently.

The journey is more taxing than either of them had anticipated. Dezhrean already isn’t too happy about traveling through tropical jungle in the sweltering heat. Adding the fact that he needs to figure out a circus act to suit their cover story because there’s no way _Cordelia_ will have something planned.

Well. He’s not the cheeriest of elves at the moment.

(He misses Vier. And Ari. They’d find a way to make the situation have a bright side).

“How much farther?” He asks, blocking out the sun with his hand.

Cordelia sighs, taking in their surroundings. “Another day’s journey, probably. We should make camp now.” She looks over her shoulder, and Dezhrean prepares for the coming remark. “Is the little prince alright with sleeping on the ground again? Aren’t you elves supposed to hate getting dirty?”

In lieu of a response, he drops his bag and sits under the shade of a tree. Finally. A break.

There’s the tell tale tickle in the back of his throat. He glances up. Cordelia’s back is to him, already busy setting up the tent for the night.

He stands, and slips around to the back of the tree. Maybe he can cough quietly enough so Cordelia doesn’t hear-

Saliva fills his mouth, and he barely has time to think that he should’ve gone further away from camp before bending over and retching. Cordelia curses, and spins around to watch him vomit up torn bits of roses.

“What the hell,” She breathes, and Dezhrean would agree with the sentiment if he wasn’t otherwise occupied. Acting on instinct, she reaches forward, but stops with a conflicted expression. There’s not much she can do for him and they both know it.

Cordelia looks down at the petals, and then looks at Dezhrean. “What in Ail’nhise’s name is going on?”

Dezhrean is careful to avoid her stare, choosing instead to brush dirt off his pants. “What?” He asks. “Never seen anyone cough up flowers before?” He clears his throat, and walks past her.

“Oh, no you don’t,” She grabs his arm, forcing him to stop and turn to her. She’s glaring up at him as she points an angry finger, poking his chest for good measure. “I didn’t ask questions when you just left your friends. That’s none of my business. But _this-_ ” she points to the petals on the ground. “That’s serious. That could get us killed, and that makes it my business. So spill.”

He narrows his eyes, but Cordelia isn’t like Vier or Ari. She doesn’t trust him like they do. She returns his glare, and tightens her grip on his arm.

“Fine,” he sighs. “You really want to know?”

She lets go of him, and crosses her arms. “People just don’t cough up flowers. So, yes. I want to know.”

Dezhrean tells her. Everything he knows about the disease, everything that’s happened since they left Mandeville. And she listens, interrupting on occasion to ask a question, or when she needs something repeated.

By the time he’s done, the sun has long set.

Cordelia’s frowning into the fire, and Dezhrean’s careful to avoid looking at her.

 

\--

 

Maeye once said that “his guiding stars” would bring him the person he needed.

He never truly believed that. Not until, while Dezhrean is drowning in memories, Vier appears out of the night, like a gift from the goddess herself.

Dezhrean buries his face in Vier’s chest, and when Vier’s arms tighten around him, he feels safe for the first time since he left.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers into the shirt pressed against him. His voice comes out muffled, and Dezhrean’s not sure if it’s because of the fabric or the fact he’s holding back tears. “I’m so sorry.”

Vier rubs circles into his back, hushing him gently. “It’s okay. I saw your note. I know you didn’t want to.” He presses his lips to the top of Dezhrean’s head, and Dezhrean selfishly lets himself believe it to be a halfway kiss.  “You were just thinking about us.”

He steps back, and cups his face with gentle hands that are far too kind for their own good. “But,” Vier adds, adopting a firm tone. “But, next time? Don’t. We chose to be with you, and we’ll keep choosing you. We’re not going to be that easy to get rid of.” He brushes a strand of hair out of Dezhrean’s face. “Next time, come to us. That’s what friends are for. Got it?”

Dezhrean nods as he feels his eyes burn. “Got it.”

“Good.” Vier smiles, and it’s blinding. He reaches up to brush a tear away from Dezhrean’s cheek. “Now, you up for finding the others?” He moves to stand next to him. “Before you decide, you should know - Ari told me, in case I found you before her, to tell you that she’s ‘ready to kick your bubble butt’.”

The snort escapes before he can stop it. Vier chuckles, and holds his hand out. “Come on. Let’s go.”

He reaches out, and takes Vier’s hand in his own, relishing in the fact he doesn’t pull away.

They walk back towards the city, hand in hand.

 

\---

 

(Ari does, indeed, kick his butt. She also wraps him in a crushing hug, one Vier joins, and cries into his shirt while Niles gives him good natured slap on the back.

They weren’t going to run away.

 _They chose him_.)

 

\-----

 

The next morning, after their friends are off gathering information, Cordelia holds his hair back while he coughs up an interesting mixture of blood, spit, and rose petals. She doesn't say anything, but he can feel her wanting to.

“What is it?” He asks, pulling a petal from his mouth when a coughing fit subsides.

She plucks the petal from his fingers with a grimace. “You should tell him.”

He snorts. “Yeah, nice joke.” Dezhrean flicks the roses off his cot. “Why don't I just write my father a wedding invitation while I’m at it.”

She let's go of his hair, rolling off his bed with a disgusted noise. “I'm serious, Dezhrean. This will only get worse if you don't tell him.”

“Yeah, I could tell him and when he doesn't return the feelings, he'll be too awkward to talk to me, and our entire team dynamic will be ruined. Not to mention our friendship.” He sits up, meeting her glare with his own. “The flowers are gonna keep happening either way, so I prefer the option where I don’t tell him.”

“You don't know that.”

“I'm extra sure that I do know that,” he points to himself. “I've known him longer. Trust me.”

“He could surprise you,” Cordelia points out. “He might like you more than you think. And keeping everything bottled up is just gonna kill you faster.”

Dezhrean shrugs. “I’m here for a good time. Never said anything about a long one.”

She groans, and tosses a handful of petals at his face. “Fine, then. Wither up and die for all I care,” she tells him, before getting off his cot to get ready for the day. “You should trust me on this, though.”

He makes a noncommittal noise, rolling onto his side. His fingers are playing with the petals, thinking about the boy that creates them, until Professor Gregor comes calling.

 

\--

 

Once again, they beat the stacked odds set before them, which is a surprise to everyone. It's a stressful fight, and they'll have injuries for a while.

To celebrate, the circus throws a party. It’s not everyday three elemancers, and two adventurers come to the rescue. The performers at Professor Gregor’s Incredible Circus, alongside the citizens of Port Carlo, intend to give them a “proper thanks”, despite the heroes’ protests.

Dezhrean loses track of Niles and Cordelia in the crowd almost immediately. Vier disappears shortly after to go make sure they're okay, despite both his and Ari’s insistence that they're grown adults who can take care of themselves.

“I just don't get,” Ari starts, pausing mid sentence to down her glass of vaguely brown liquid. “How Vier can be such a worrywart all the time. I'm surprised he hasn't, like, _died_ from stress yet.”

Dezhrean shrugs. “Who knows. We’re there to make sure that doesn't happen now.”

“At least when we're not the ones _causing_ the stress.”

He ignores the very obvious jab at “recent” events in favor of sipping at his drink.

When it’s clear that he isn’t rising to the bait, Ari tries a different tactic. “So, how’s that cough of yours? Still around?”

Dezhrean hums the confirmation, and shrugs when Ari groans. “I don't think it's going away anytime soon. Or ever.”

“Wow, are your lungs that bad?”

“Something like that.”

Ari gives him a pitying glance, and he rolls his eyes. “Stop that. I’ve gotten used to it.”

She purses her lips. “Does it hurt?”

 _Yes_. “Sometimes. Nothing I can’t handle, though.” He gives her a grin. “Didn’t think you cared that much.”

She snorts, shoving at his arm. “Of course I care, dummy. You’re family.”  Ari looks off. “We were really worried about you when you left. Vier especially. You could’ve been dead and he - _we_ wouldn’t have known.” With a heavy sigh, she rests her head in her hand. “And that sucks. Trust me.”

There's some bigger story hidden in Ari’s words, but it’s not the time or his place to pry open her secrets. Instead, he reaches forward and squeezes her free hand. “I’m sorry. Leaving the way I did was awful, and I know it. You two deserve better.” He hesitates for a moment. “But it’s never going to happen again.”

“Promise?”

He makes an “x” over his heart, a gesture he saw her do back in Mandeville while talking to kids from the orphanage. “Promise. We’re family after all,” He pulls his hand away with a wink. “Didn’t you just say so, _va’roa’ye_?”

Ari beams. “I have no idea what you just said, but it sounded nice, so thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

There’s a distant cheer from a tavern, applause echoing out into the street. He wonders for a moment what could be happening over there, before Niles stumbles out with an arm tossed over Vier’s shoulder. He spots the two of them talking, and waves.

“Wonder what trouble those two got up to,” He muses aloud.

She snorts. “Vier? Getting up to trouble? We’re talking about the same guy, right?”

Dezhrean points in their direction, “It’s more likely than you think.”

Vier nudges Niles, saying something to him that’s lost in the crowd. Niles nods, and shoves Vier in their direction lightly. A few people ruffle his hair as he walks past them, and he laughs along with them before reaching his friends.

“Hi,” he says, all too cheery.

“Vier Aviglon,” Dezhrean grins. Ari’s laughing behind her hand, clearly as amused as he is. “Are you _drunk?”_

With a shrug, and a hiccup, Vier smiles at them lazily. “Lil bit.”

Ari raises an eyebrow, grin never leaving her face. “What happened to your sober plan?”

“Niles happened.” Vier hiccups, propping himself on the table. “He bet I couldn't hold Montevarian liquor like the rest of the bar.” He does his best to stifle a burp, before leaning a little on Dezhrean.

He shares a grin with Ari. “And can you?”

Vier’s grin slides easily onto his face, which is answer enough for them. Ari cheers loudly, telling him he did his country proud. He nods his head, laughing alongside the two of them. Everything about the movement is slow, and relaxed, and makes Dezhrean wonder just how many glasses of rum Vier's downed within the past hour.

He slides over his glass. “Congratulations on your victory, but you're going to have a monster hangover if you don't start drinking water soon.”

Nodding distantly again, Vier picks up the glass and downs the entire thing. He then turns to look at the two of them. Ari nudges Dezhrean, leans in, and whispers, “Two gold he’s about to start going off about how amazing we are.” She holds her hand out, ready to strike the deal.

One he accepts with a moment’s hesitation.

“Did you guys know that,” Vier stops to hiccup, but then leans forward. “That you’re both some of the best people I have ever met.”

Hmm.

Ari grins at Dezhrean, winking triumphantly, before turning to Vier. “Heck yeah, we are. We’re awesome.”

“You are!” Vier insists. “You’re the most awesome ever.” He points to Dezhrean. “And so are you. Don’t argue. I’m too drunk to argue, just trust me on this, okay?”

He has to bite his lip to stop from laughing, but he can't stop the smile. “Wouldn't dream of it.”

“Good.” Vier nods. “Because you are. You both are.” He sighs, content, and leans against Dezhrean. “I love you guys so much.”

“We love you too, Vier,” Ari assures with a pat on his shoulder. “Don’t we, Dezzy?”

Dezhrean gives them both a smile. If only they knew. “It’s true. We do.”

The two of them beam, and Vier shifts more of his weight onto Dezhrean. He reeks of alcohol, but Dezhrean’s willing to overlook it for the time being.

“Just how much have you had to drink?” Dezhrean asks, raising an eyebrow.

Vier waved his hand. “Stopped counting. M’fine.”

Ari and Dezhrean share a look, and she slides her water across the table. “Drink this,” she tells him, and Vier obediently starts to chug it. “And like. Five more of those.” She turns to Dezhrean. “Get him five more of those. And a bed.”

“M’not tired,” Vier insists, slumping more against Dezhrean as he puts the glass back on the table. He’s giving Ari a pitiful look, and Dezhrean almost suggests they let him stay out when he yawns.

“Uh huh,” Ari says. “You say that, but the moment you get in bed, you’re gonna pass out. Remember last time?” Dezhrean’s about to ask about ‘ _last time_ ’ when she turns to him with a stern look. “Help get him back to the room, okay?”

“Why can’t you,” he asks, already wrapping an arm around Vier to better support him. Vier leans into the hold, and he tries not to think too much about it.

Ari slides away from the table, a grin on her face. “Be _cause_ ,” she tells him, using the singsong tone that always worries Vier. “If this is what our boy looks like, one of us should check up on Niles. Besides, you’re already holding him. Makes sense. Just do it, alright?”

He can’t argue with that logic, so he gives her a mock salute. She returns it, grinning, and marches into the crowd.

Dezhrean turns to look at Vier, whose resting his head on Dezhrean’s shoulder. “Come on, Vi’ye,” he mutters. “Let’s get you into bed.”

Vier snorts, “S’forward of you.”

Dezhrean freezes, mouth gaping, and his eyes widen.

Vier covers his face with his free hand, trying to hide the blush. “Sweet goddess, I am so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Dezhrean coughs, face red. He takes a step forward, as if that would prevent the implications of what Vier just said from catching up to him. As if he could physically stop himself from overthinking. “Shall we?” He gestures in the vague direction of the inn, and Vier nods.

Together, they slowly make their way out of the festival grounds, into the town proper. It’s mostly empty, which makes sense, considering the hour. Anyone who wasn’t at the party was probably already in bed.

The inn they’re staying at is by the seaside, just on the edge of town. Dezhrean leads them towards the line of the surf, unconsciously slowing their pace to gaze at the moon reflecting off the waves.

“You okay?” Vier asks, glancing down at him.

Dezhrean shrugs. “Yeah. Just enjoying the view. We don’t have oceans in El’hayen.” He’d never seen one until they reached Montevar. “It’s a nice view.”

Vier hums in agreement.  “Almost romantic,” he mumbles.

Dezhrean’s face warms. “Yeah. That too.” He forces himself to look away from the water. “C’mon. We’re almost back to the inn.

“Wait a minute.” Vier steps back, and takes Dezhrean’s hands in his own. “Let’s dance.”

He blinks. “There’s no music.” He points out, despite that they can still faintly hear the carnival’s celebration from where they are. “And aren’t we supposed to be getting you to bed?”

“We can pretend,” Vier suggests, moving to step in front of Dezhrean with a grin. “S’not that hard, really. And one dance isn’t going to take that long. We’ll be back before Ari. Promise.” He hesitates for a second, hands loosening. “Unless you don’t want to, which is fine-”

Dezhrean huffs, grabbing Vier’s hand back. “I didn’t say _that_.” His face is definitely warm, but Vier hasn’t commented on it yet. “I would love to dance with you.”

It’s almost comical how quickly Vier’s expression brightens. He beams, readjusting their hands, before leading Dezhrean into the beginning steps of a waltz. Dezhrean raises an eyebrow.

“Who said you could lead,” He asks, following nonetheless.

Vier shrugs. “I’m taller. S’like, the rule.” He grins down at Dezhrean, who snorts.

“Sounds fake, but okay.”

They dance slowly, skipping a few steps here and there. Sand isn’t the best dance floor, but Dezhrean’s not really going to complain when Vier’s hand is on his waist, keeping him close.

Vier looks down at him, expression softer than he's used to. “You’re gorgeous, did you know that?”

His step falters for a moment.

“Pardon?”

The expression softens more, turning fond. “You are so beautiful.”

Well.

_Shit._

Dezhrean clears his throat, and chokes a little on a petal that’s found its way up. “Uh. Hm. Thanks?”

He is not going to cough up roses in front of Vier Aviglon, he is _not._

However, Vier doesn’t seem to notice his struggle. “And, that thing you can do with the lights? How you conjure arrows out of thin air?” He shakes his head, continuing to lead their dance as if Dezhrean didn’t just stumble. “It’s amazing. _You’re_ amazing.”

“Every elven elemancer can conjure arrows.” Dezhrean protests. “I’m not that special.”

Hands cup his cheeks, and all too fast he’s meeting Vier’s stare. They’re close enough that if either of them really wanted to, it wouldn’t take much to close the distance between them.  

Vier sobers for a moment, like the next words he’s about to say are far more important than anything else. The soft, fond look never leaves.

“You’re more special than you know.”

If Dezhrean wasn’t blushing yet, he certainly was now. Vier’s far too close, far too kind, and for a moment he can believe that maybe, just maybe, Vier feels the same-

That is, until he needs to cough.

His throat burns, and he doubles over violently as the coughing fit overpowers him. Vier stumbles back, swears, and kneels down next to him to rub circles into his back. Normally, he’d appreciate the comforting gesture, but all it did now was make his heart ache more. At least they weren’t in public anymore. Small blessings.

The hand on his back stops as petals fall from his mouth, collecting on the ground. He keeps coughing, gagging, until a fully bloomed rose tumbles past his lip and into the dirt.

Fuck.

He watches Vier lean toward the flower, confusion plain on his face.

“Roses.” Vier mumbles, playing with one of the petals as if were every day his friends just coughed up the symbolic flower of his home. He picks up the rose, and frowns at Dezhrean. “You cough up flowers? Since when?”

Reflexively, Dezhrean considers how to avoid the question, how to turn this situation into a joke or redirect Vier’s attention. But what does he have to lose at this point? The chances of Vier remembering anything tonight are slim to none. Hopefully.

So instead, he answers honestly. “A little before we got into Fort Dumar, but this whole thing started in Mandeville.” He stands up, brushing off a stray petal that had landed on his pants. Vier continues to stare up at him from the ground in alarmed awe. “You weren’t supposed to see it, though. I’ll be fine.”

“You’re coughing up roses.”

“That’s been established, yes,” Dezhrean blows a strand of hair from his face. He offers his hand, “Come on. We still need to get you to bed.”

Vier frowns, but reaches up with his free hand. “How is that even possible?” He narrows his eyes, leaning into Dezhrean’s support again. “Are you even real?”

He chuckles at that. “I’m real. And it’s a disease. A humani one in origin, but there are cases of other races contracting it.”

With a thoughtful noise, Vier plays with the rose in his hand. “Could be worse, I guess. At least it’s pretty.” He attempts to dry off the rose with his shirt, before placing it in part of his braid. “Looks good on you.” He thinks for a moment, frowning, before resting his head on top of Dezhrean’s. “My shirt too. Everything looks good on you. S’not fair.”

He bites his lip, grinning despite everything. “Oh really?” He can feel Vier nod against him.

“Yes. Completely unfair.” He sighs into Dezhrean’s hair. “M’tired. Can we sleep now?”

“Almost.” Dezhrean spots their inn just a few buildings away. “Just a few more minutes.” Selfishly, he wishes that it’ll take longer for them to reach their room. It’s doubtful that he’s gonna have Vier pressed against him again anytime soon.  “You can stay awake just a little bit longer, yeah?” Vier nods against him again, and he laughs. “Alright, let’s get going. Bed time.”

Vier stops, causing Dezhrean to stumble to a halt alongside him. “I haven’t written anything today.”

Dezhrean hums, “You haven’t. You can do that tomorrow though, can’t you?”

“But I gotta do it now.” He insists. “I haven’t written in a while. Lady Aria’s going to kill me if I don’t.”

That seems like a bit of an over exaggeration, but okay. “Well, in order to avoid your premature demise,” Dezhrean wraps his arm around Vier’s waist, letting himself believe it’s more to keep him standing rather than simply because he can. “I’ll write whatever you want to say.”

Vier pauses, thinking over the offer, before nodding. It’s a little too enthusiastic. “Deal.”

 

\---

 

Vier presses closer against him, whispering into his ear every word he wants written down, breath warm against his skin. Most of it is him praising his friends, reiterating how much he loves them all, and going in depth about what he believes are their favorite qualities.

“Anything else,” Dezhrean asks with a grin.

He hums, leaning back in bed in lieu of an answer. Dezhrean moves the journal to the nightstand, snorting. Vier beams up at him, and his heart melts a little when Vier reaches for him. Ignoring the burning in his chest, and forcing himself to swallow back down whatever roses threaten to ruin the moment, he curls into Vier’s side.

Vier yawns. “S’okay?”

Dezhrean nods, resting his head on Vier’s chest. “Yeah.”

“Sometimes,” Vier mumbles, lips pressed against the top of Dezhrean’s head. “Feels like we’ve done this before. S’like we’ve known each other before. I dunno. M’tired.” He yawns, and tosses an arm around Dezhrean’s waist.

Dezhrean blinks up at him. He remembers the conversation he had with Cordelia a few nights ago, the one where he confessed everything he felt. “What did you just say?”

His question goes unanswered. Vier’s already fast asleep.

 

\--

 

They say goodbye to Montevar, and Niles, the next day. There’s no demon keeping them from moving on, and there’s a ferry to North Unowia that Ari demands they try to catch in the nearby town. Something about wanting to catch up with a friend of theirs.

Once they board, Cordelia drags Vier off the moment she can, and Ari’s entertaining some of the other passengers. Alone, Dezhrean finds himself wandering the ship. It’s mostly empty, save a few fae making their way back from a vacation, a handful of Montevarians, and the odd humani or two. It’s not long before he settles on the stern of the ship, watching the ship’s wake with his arms rested on the railing.

He stands there, enjoying the view, when a familiar voice calls out from behind him.

“There you are,” Dezhrean looks to see Vier making his way across the deck to join him. “I was looking everywhere for you.”

He hums. “Well, you found me. Everything alright?” There’s something...off about Vier, but he can’t quite put his finger on it yet.

Vier nods, fiddling with his ring. “Mind if I join you?”

He nods, gesturing towards the railing. Vier gives him a nervous smile, situating himself nearby.

“I’ve been talking to Cordelia,” Vier starts. “About the flowers. She told me her theory about what’s causing it. Or, well, part of it. She looked like she wanted to say more but stopped herself.”

Dezhrean is going to kill Ce’ce Cordelia. Damn the consequences.

Vier continues to ramble, starting to pace back in forth. “So, what she said was that it’s magical, and has something to do with repressed feelings, or one-sided ones. Which I guess makes sense. I’ve heard that bottling things up can kill you, but never figured it could be literal until just now.” He glances across to Dezhrean. “Can you tell me more about it? The truth. Does it hurt?”

Talking about the disease with Vier is easier than he expects it to be. “Yes,” He says. “A lot. All the time.” He sighs, resting his chin in his hands. “Hurts to breathe. Existing in general is a nightmare.”

Vier makes a pained face. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Dezhrean insists, waving the apology off. “It’s not your fault.” That wasn’t a complete lie. Vier might be the cause of the disease, but he never intended for Dezhrean to fall hopelessly in love with him. “What’s with the sudden interest, might I ask?”

Vier purses his lips like he’s thinking about something. “I don’t quite remember the party back in Port Carlo. It’s a bit hazy here and there, but I do recall parts of it, and I’ve been going over a few things in my head, and I might have an idea on how to help.”

That pulls Dezhrean out of his thoughts. “Really?”

Nodding, Vier takes another step towards him. “Yeah. At least, I hope it helps.” He hesitates for a moment, before continuing. “From what I’ve inferred, it sounds like this has to do with one-sided affection. Love, specifically.”

Dezhrean’s heart stops.

“And,” He continues. “The way I see it, is that if those feelings weren’t one-sided, then…” He trails off with a shrug, face red. “Well, there really wouldn’t be any reason for the disease to stick around, right?”

With a nod, Dezhrean takes a shaky breath. “Well, yes. That makes sense.” He licks his lips, careful to avoid Vier’s eyes. “But how would one go about proving that whatever feelings are requited?”

A sudden grip startles him, and he turns to see Vier standing a lot closer than he was moments before.

“Usually,” He says. “That’s proven with a love confession. In extreme situations, though, it can be shown through an affectionate act. Kissing, for example.”

“Oh, really? Your evidence, Detective Aviglon?”

Vier leans forward, tilting his head down until he’s inches from Dezhrean’s face. “Call it a hunch.”

He can feel Vier’s breath on his lips, and wonders if Vier can hear his heart pounding.

“Can I?” Vier whispers. “Can I kiss you?”

Dezhrean bites his lip. “Yes.”

Vier closes the distance between them, pressing their lips together. It’s chaste, but it still manages to make Dezhrean warm, all the way down to his toes. Vier’s hand is on Dezhrean’s cheek, cool in contrast, keeping him grounded; reminding him that this is _real_ , and not some dream the goddess decided to tease him with.  

Something unfurls in his chest a little.

The kiss ends too soon, with Vier blinking down at him, red-faced. He starts to say something when Dezhrean’s hands wrap around his neck, pulling them back together, and kissing him again.

It’s longer this time. Vier gasps softly, before kissing him back, lips parting every time they meet, sharing another secret whenever they come together.  With every kiss, Dezhrean can feel the pressure, the pain in his chest he’s been carrying since Mandeville, fading away.

There’s a terse silence between them when they pull apart for air, one Dezhrean forces himself to ignore. It’s filled with questions, the prejudice they’re about to face for this taboo, the hardships that are only going to get worse the longer they stay like this.

He’s not going to think about that. He can’t bring himself to confront the issue, choosing to let himself bask in the feeling of Vier’s hands on his cheeks.

He’s choosing to be happy.

Vier grins against his lips. “So. I take it that helped?”

Dezhrean snorts.

 

\--

 

They catch up with the others later, and Dezhrean finds it’s surprisingly easy to ignore Cordelia’s ‘ _told you so’_   smirk with Vier's hand in his. 

**Author's Note:**

> fcking finally. 
> 
> cry about stasis with me at @vieraviglon


End file.
